Spaces of observation and obscurity: cinematic prisons of light and dark

In The Eye of Power, Foucault delineated the key concerns surrounding hospital architecture in the latter half of the eighteenth century as being the ‘visibility of bodies, individuals and things'. As such, the ‘new form of hospital' that came to be developed ‘was at once the effect and support of a new type of gaze'. This was a gaze that was not simply concerned with ways of minimising overcrowding or cross-contamination. Rather, this was a surveillance intended to produce knowledge about the pathological bodies contained within the hospital walls. This would then allow for their appropriate classification. Foucault went on to describe how these principles came to be applied to the architecture of prisons. This was exemplified for him in the distinct shape of Bentham's panopticon. This circular design, which has subsequently become an often misused synonym for a contemporary culture of surveillance, was premised on a binary of the seen and the not-seen. An individual observer could stand at the central point of the circle and observe the cells (and their occupants) on the perimeter whilst themselves remaining unseen. The panopticon in its purest form was never constructed, yet it conveys the significance of the production of knowledge through observation that became central to institutional design at this time and modern thought more broadly. What is curious though is that whilst the aim of those late eighteenth century buildings was to produce wellventilated spaces suffused with light, this provoked an interest in its opposite. The gothic movement in literature that was developing in parallel conversely took a ‘fantasy world of stone walls, darkness, hideouts and dungeons…' as its landscape (Vidler, 1992: 162). Curiously, despite these modern developments in prison design, the façade took on these characteristics. The gothic imagination came to describe that unseen world that lay behind the outer wall. This is what Evans refers to as an architectural ‘hoax'. The façade was taken to represent the world within the prison walls and it was the façade that came to inform the popular imagination about what occurred behind it. The rational, modern principles ordering the prison became conflated with the meanings projected by and onto the façade. This confusion of meanings have then been repeated and reenforced in the subsequent representations of the prison. This is of paramount importance since it is the cinematic and televisual representation of the prison, as I argue here and elsewhere, that maintain this erroneous set of meanings, this ‘hoax'.

Representations of multicultural identities in British Cinema

This paper explores the transnational and interstitial dimensions of cultural production in Britain today, and the representation of migrant and diasporic identities in contemporary mainstream British cinema. The box office success of films like Gurindha Chadha’s Bhaji on the Beach (1993) and Bend it Like Beckham (2002) and East is East (Daniel O’Donnell 1999) and their precursors My Beautiful Launderette (Stephen Frears 1985), Sammy and Rosie Get Laid (Stephen Frears 1987) and the TV mini-series Buddha of Suburbia (Roger Mitchell 1993) seem to celebrate and articulate a set of values around hybridity and alterity: a discourse of multiculturalism. This paper will engage with a series of key questions. Are there ideological values implicit within and common to all these texts? Can we map a rhetoric or discourse of multiculturalism within popular culture? Do mainstream representations of immigrant identities represent a discourse of resistance, a decolonising global culture or is this Western brand of multiculturalism still located within an Orientalising gaze? In what ways are multiculturalism and postcolonialism overlapping and yet opposing rhetorics? [From the Author]

Playhouse creatures: the struggle towards virtuosity

The conflation of the actress and the whore is as old as time, and, perhaps unsurprisingly, continues to excite interest from academics, writers and audiences. April de Angelis’ Playhouse Creatures was inspired by Elizabeth Howe’s seminal The First English Actresses (1992), which was the first academic reading of the Restoration actress, since the 1950’s. Howe saw the first English actresses as victims of the Restoration male gaze: sexually displayed and exploited. In this paper Howe’s reading and de Angelis’s realisation will be examined alongside archival research and the help of the cast of this year’s production of Playhouse Creatures in order to discover another story, the development of the actress as virtuoso. [From the Author]

Legal myth-making: Medea and the legal representation of the feminine ‘other'

The Law operates by, and through, the creation of ideal benchmarks of conduct that are deemed to be representative of the behavioural norm. It is in this sense that it could be contended that the Law utilises, and relies on, myths in the same way as do other disciplines, notably psycho-analysis. It is possible to go even further and argue that the use of a created narrative mythology is essential to the establishment of a defined legal benchmark of behaviour by which the female defendant is assessed, judged and punished. While mythology expresses and symbolizes cultural and political behaviour, it is the Law that embodies and prescribes punitive sanctions. This element represents a powerful literary strand in classical mythology. This may be seen, for instance, in Antigone’s appeal to the Law as justification for her conduct, as much as in Medea’s challenge to the Law though her desire for vengeance. Despite its image of neutral, objective rationality, the Law, in creating and sustaining the ideals of legally-sanctioned conduct, engages in the same literary processes of imagination, reason and emotion that are central to the creation and re-creation of myth. The (re-)presentation of the Medea myth in literature (especially in theatre) and in art, finds its echo in the theatre of the courtroom where wronged women who have refused to passively accept their place, have instead responded with violence. Consequently, the Medea myth, in its depiction of the (un)feminine, serves as a template for the Law’s judgment of ‘conventional’ feminine conduct in the roles of wife and mother. Medea is an image of deviant femininity, as is Lady Macbeth and the countless other un-feminine literary and mythological women who challenge the power of the dominant culture and its ally, the Law. These women stand opposed to the other dominant theme of both literature and Law: the conformist woman, the passive dupe, who are victims of male oppression – women such as Ariadne of Naxos and Tess of the D’Ubervilles – and who are subsequently consumed by the Law, much as Semele is consumed by the fire of Jupiter’s gaze upon her. All of these women, the former as well as the latter, have their real-life counterparts in the pages of the Law Reports. As Fox puts it, “these women have come to bear the weight of the cultural stereotypes and preconceptions about women who kill.”